


just let me in your arms

by syzygykitty



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Horrortale, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, One Shot, Other, PWP, Pet Names, Porn with Feelings, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader has no defined gender, Reader has no defined genitals, Romance, Wet Dream, because i literally cannot write porn without it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-27 22:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10817622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syzygykitty/pseuds/syzygykitty
Summary: You wake up wanting.He will always be there to give you what you need.(Short Horrortale!Sans/Reader PWP.)





	just let me in your arms

**Author's Note:**

> This work contains explicit sexual content and is intended for adults! 18+ only, please!
> 
> Title is from Carly Rae Jepsen's "All That."
> 
> I was attempting to write something purely vanilla. I think it mostly worked out, but this is Horrortale, so there's going to be elements of some vaguely kinky shit regardless lol.

You’re dreaming. But you don’t know that. All you know is that he’s on you, around you, in you, everywhere, and you’re gasping and choking with it, how good it feels, and he reaches down to tease at your sex as he moves and moves and moves and you’re so close, just a little more, just one touch will send you over the edge, _please_ –

And that’s when you wake up, your hands reaching to pull him closer and finding only air. You’re hot, so hot, and your thighs are slick with the mess you’ve made, are making, and yet the burning in your core is unbearable and god, you need more. You’re reaching down, desperate to quench the fire consuming your body, but a hand around your wrist stops you as a dim red glow lights the room.

“havin’ some dream there, huh, peaches?” his voice comes from the darkness. Your gaze snaps to him, your mouth open as you pant. “U-uh, I was –" Your voice cuts out, too dazed and flushed with unfulfilled arousal to articulate what you need in this moment.

He knows, though. He knows what you need, has always known, even and especially when he can’t give it to you. In this cruel and starving world you both live in, what you need is the easiest part of the problem. Getting it, on the other hand, is usually impossible. So when Sans can give you something, something as easy and necessary as his touch, he’ll rarely pass up the opportunity.

His grip around your wrist disappears as he rolls to straddle you, face immediately going to your neck and nuzzling at the scars and bruises there. At this point, the gesture is so familiar and comforting and arousing all at once that you relax instinctively, tilting your head to allow him better access and not even attempting to muffle the moan that spills from deep in your chest.

His hips grind into yours once before his bony hands are pulling at the elastic of your underwear, humming approvingly when you lift your hips immediately to help him. He tosses the offending clothing away without a second glance and pushes your loose shirt up to your neck, taking in your newly uncovered body with a look of deep satisfaction. His grip tightens around your waist as you start to squirm under his gaze, needing so much more.

“Sans – “ you start to plead, but he cuts you off with a finger on your mouth. “shh, sweet thing,” he says, pulling the front of his shorts down to reveal his dimly glowing cock, “i gotcha. i’m gonna give your sweet body the fucking it needs.”

And as he presses into you, one hand supporting his body and another rubbing at your sex, his gravelly voice continues – “such a needy slut. you can’t go one night without my cock, can you?” You nod feverishly, reaching up to slide your hands under his shirt and over the cold and scarred bars of his ribcage, toward his sternum. His single eyelight shrinks at the sensation and he hisses out a breath, dropping his head toward your chest and holding back his moans. He’s hilted, deep inside you, your walls squeezed tight around him to urge him on, but he’s still, refusing to grant you the release you so badly need.

“Please,” you beg, knowing how much he likes to hear your desperation. “Please, Sans, I need you so bad, I need to come, I need it!” He huffs a laugh over your nipples, making them rise and harden. He notices, of course, and laves a cold tongue over them, nipping and sucking gently when you press his head toward you.

“…all right,” he says eventually, after your nipples are red and sensitive and you’re squirming fiercely under his hands, and pulls himself from your hole, yawning empty and starving without him, until finally, _finally_ , he pushes back in and you feel whole again.

Your eyes want to flutter shut at the intensely satisfying feeling, but you force them to stay open, wanting to see him, wanting to see everything. His grin is as wide as ever, but his red eye is sharp, focused, watching the movement of your body under him, and sweat is pouring from his brow as he maintains a slow rhythm that belies the intimacy of this moment. Sans is a cruel monster. He lives in a cruel Underground. But there is nothing cruel about the way he watches you, with all your imperfections, your flaws and blemishes, and there is nothing cruel about the way he ducks down to press his mouth to yours, snaking his tongue past your lips and holding your hips still so he can give you the loving you deserve.

It is all of these things and so much more that makes up the deep and unequivocal knowledge in your soul, that whatever else can be said about Sans, it is that he loves you. When he gives a unexpectedly sharp thrust to a place he knows by heart, that makes your eyes roll back and your voice leave you in a guttural cry of pleasure, you know it. When he buries his face in your neck and bites just hard enough to leave a mark everyone will see the next day, you know it. And when he comes with a shudder and your name on his lips, pulling you over the same peak a few seconds behind, you know it.

He pulls himself from you gently. You whimper and clench your muscles, feeling his seed drip from you. For a minute, you both just lay there, in the darkness, breathing in your combined scents. Then he pulls you, rearranging you so you’re spooning each other, and breaths a contented sigh in your ear.

“…love you,” he mumbles.

You turn and kiss his sharp-toothed mouth. “Love you too, Sans.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://syzygykitty.tumblr.com/)


End file.
